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Sublime

 

Into this night we dive

Lost in pleasures drive

Sensing both with touch and sight

I find we’re locked in tight

 

We crumble to the floor

Our plot is still in tact

To heal this world of pain

And keep our childhood pact

 

It seems as we get older

We rarely find the time

We use to play more often

The games were all sublime

 

© 10/29/2008, William Grant Preston

Grant's Rants - Poetry

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How many eyes does the average person have?